A Crippled Killer
by epicpickleninja
Summary: Night Angels set in Panem. It's the 67th Hunger Games. Hmmm...I wonder who the male tribute from District 5 could possibly be...?
1. Chapter 1

**Non Hunger Game people: There's a country called Panem and every year it makes each of the 12 Districts send two tributes (one guy, one girl) between the ages 12-18 to the Capitol where they compete in an arena controlled by crazy guys. The tributes fight to the death. The last one standing wins and their district gets prizes (like food) until the next Hunger Game.**

**Non Night Angle people: Kylar grew up in the slums, but is now training to be a wetboy (an assassin, but better) under the tutelage of Durzo Blint (the best of the best). Kylar has already killed before and is trained with every weapon. The Sa'kage are the masters of the underworld. Kylar stays with the Drakes during his tutelage and became friends with Logan as his first assignment.**

"So you're not worried at all?" asked the doubtful voice of Logan Gyre.

"Of course I'm worried," Kylar scoffed. _Lie._ "You'd be stupid not to…We just have less to worry about than most people."

Logan sighed apprehensively. "I suppose…"

"Logan, you'll be fine," Kylar said. "You didn't sign up for any tesseraes." _And the tributes for years have coincidentally been the children of the people who get on the Sa'kage's bad side around reaping time. Ever since the Flokes have been getting cozy with the Peacekeepers…well, let's just say, fortunately for the male tributes and unfortunately for the Flokes, their son is at the ample age of 15. May the odds be ever in his favor. _

"What about you?" Logan asked.

Kylar smiled at his friend's concern. "Sign up for a tesserae? Why would I?" _Haven't needed to for years. _

"Glory, I guess," Logan mumbled.

Kylar snorted. "If I wanted 'glory,' which I don't, I'd volunteer."

Logan nodded, slightly appeased. "Let's go say hey to Serah."

"Should I let you guys say 'hey' in private?" Kylar teased, amused to see a blush creep on Logan's face. Kylar internally sighed as they made their way to Count Drake's manor. Logan was always frantic on reaping day, anxious one of his friends would get chosen. Not himself though, which only added another reason why Logan would always be a better man than Kylar.

"Hello, boys," greeted their District's escort, her accent betraying her Capitol upbringing. "Excited for the reaping?"

"Definitely," Kylar assured her, careful to speak before Logan. Kylar would've thought since Anita "down-graded" to District 5, she would've discovered the Hunger Games isn't all the festivities it was at the Capitol. No such luck.

"I'm hoping we'll get a fighter this year," Anita continued, oblivious to the seething Logan was hiding, rather badly, under a mask of calm. Kylar casually shifted his body between her and Logan. "The last few tributes…"

"Seemed like they were picked just to be slaughtered?" Kylar asked innocently. Logan blinked at him in surprise.

"Exactly!" Anita said.

Kylar ignored the questioning expression Logan was sending his way. He _really_ hadn't meant to say that out loud. "So do you know where Serah is?"

"Can't say I do," Anita said, her long, glittery green eyelashes flashing as she checked her watch. "Now excuse me boys while I fix myself up. We're live in an hour!"

"Bye, Anita," Kylar said. Logan waved half-heartedly.

"How can you be so friendly with her?" Logan hissed, not even waiting until she was out of earshot.

"Probably the same way you're nice to everyone."

Logan scowled. "That's not even remotely the same. I don't _pretend_ to be buddy-buddies with anyone!"—Kylar hid a flinch—"I definitely don't agree with this…this…"

"Event?"

"Monstrosity!"

"I don't _agree_ with the Hunger Games," Kylar snapped. "I just don't see how being mean to one person, who might be oblivious, but didn't actually harm anyone, would make a difference."

Logan glared, but eventually turned away from Kylar's steady gaze.

"Yeah, I know," he said sheepishly. "I just get a little wound up during this time. It's just…the Hunger Games are so…"

"Yeah," Kylar said. They really were. "Hey look. Serah."

"I'm so glad she's one year older than me," Logan breathed.

"Yeah, at least it's your last year so she can finally stop worrying about the ogre who's not-so-secretly in love with her," Kylar said with a wicked grin.

"I'm not that obvious!"

Kylar made a noncommittal noise.

"I'm not," Logan muttered.

"Hey, Serah!" Kylar said brightly.

Serah turned and gave a genuine smile. "Hey, Logan."

Logan smiled softly.

"You look nice," she said.

"I'm fine by the way, thanks for asking," Kylar continued.

"Thanks, you too." Logan only had eyes, and ears apparently, for Serah. _Whatever, only his best friend over here._

"Well, I suppose I'll go help Illena and Mags. You know, where I'm appreciated." Still no response. For people who don't like each other 'like that'… Kylar shook his head in disgust as he walked into Drake's manor.

He arrived to see Illena pacing nervously around the room, piles of her clothes scattered across the floor while Mags fixed her hair in a mirror.

"Should I wear my lavender dress?" Illena asked worriedly. "Or something that will make me blends in with the crowd…?"

"I don't know," Kylar called from the doorway. "Don't you want to look nice for the cameras if you get chosen?"

Illena paled noticeably. Mags shot Kylar an irritated glare as she turned to her little sister. Kylar turned away sheepishly. He wasn't used to dealing with innocent little girls who weren't hardened enough to treat the games as a spectacle. An enriching spectacle that gave street rats a chance to earn cash with bets ranging from the first tribute to die, who will betray their "allies" first or who plays with their kills—Kylar shook his head. That wasn't his life anymore.

He glanced guiltily at Illena, who looked frail and nervous as she listened to her sister say how little chance she had of being picked, after all, it was Illena's first reaping. Night Angels, he was so insensitive.

"Sorry," Kylar said. "I was trying to…lighten up the mood."

Illena gave him a watery smile. "I know, Kylar."

"It's ok, Lena," Mags said. "Boys have a weird sense of humor."

"And cooties," Kylar added helpfully, earning him a genuine smile from Illena, but making Mags' eyes gleam in a way he found not entirely comforting.

"Yeah," Mags agreed. "They're really gross…"

Illena giggled. "And silly."

"And smell funny."

"Are socially awkward."

"And always think with their—"

"Alright," Kylar interrupted. "I think that's enough of let's-pick-on-Kylar time."

Mags and Illena laughed.

"Is _that _what you're wearing to the reaping?" Mags asked, her nose wrinkling.

"Yeah, why?" Kylar looked down. It wasn't like his clothes had stains on them.

"But what if you get picked?" Illena asked innocently. "You'll need to look nice for the cameras."

Mags gave an unladylike snort while Kylar rolled his eyes. _Lena has way too much sass for a 12 year old._ But he couldn't quite keep the small smile off his face.

"You should wear that one shirt you got for Christmas," Illena said helpfully.

"Oh, the one you and Mags got me?"

"Yeah, I like that shirt," Mags said.

"And tie."

Kylar threw up his hands in mock-exasperation. "Fine! I guess I'll go make myself presentable!"

Mags and Illena's laughter followed him out the door.

Kylar quickly changed clothes, to appease the girls, and headed toward the gate. The reaping was starting soon and he, the Drakes, and Logan were going to head down together. Strength in numbers and all that. Kylar was personally looking forward to the feast the Drakes prepare every year. This year's feast would be much bigger so they could celebrate Logan's last eligible reaping year, which his parents were obviously invited to. Kylar wasn't particularly going to enjoy Mrs. Grye's company, but at least Logan's dad was decent.

"Alright." Mr. Drake clapped his hands together. "Is everyone ready?"

A general consensus was given and the group was off, the giggles and teasing subsiding as they neared the square. Kylar glanced at Logan, who happened to be looking at him so Kylar quickly offered a smile that was hopefully reassuring. Kylar hadn't been worried about reapings for the last three years. Once he was under Master Blint's tutelage, which meant lodging with the Drakes and no longer putting his name in more than twenty times, Kylar always felt much more relaxed. Also, Master Blint successfully picked out all of the male and female tributes in the last four years. This year he believed Kusco Floke and Mallory Beanie would be chosen, which Kylar had to agree with. Their families really didn't take their actions, the oncoming reaping day, and the vengeful Sa'kage into consideration.

"Ok, well, I'll see you guys soon," Mrs. Drake said, blinking back tears. One of her daughters was away from the threat of the Hunger Games forever, but her youngest one was entering. Mrs. Drake pulled her daughters in for a hug.

Kylar and Logan shared a look and turned towards the square in unison, silently agreeing that they should give them some privacy. Kylar was unexpectedly, for him at least, pulled back.

"Where do you think you're going?" Mrs. Drake asked as she hugged him fiercely. Kylar tensed for a moment before he felt his body relax and he returned her hug, his reassurances that they really had no chance of being chosen drying up in his throat when he saw the scared look in her eyes.

"See you in a bit," Kylar said lightly.

Mr. Drake patted his arm as Kylar walked past Serah and Logan kissing. _Well that was fast. _

"Come on," Kylar said to Illena and Mags. "Let's go."

The girls nodded stiffly as they made their way to their age groups. Kylar stopped with the rest of the 17 year olds and stared forward. A solemn mood overtook him as he saw Anita make her way to the stage. Logan brushed by Kylar as he walked toward the rest of the 18 year olds. Logan grimaced at him, but Kylar was feeling optimistic so he assumed Logan was attempting to smile.

The mayor stepped onto the platform and began his speech. The exact same speech delivered every year by a very nasally Mayor Gunder. Kylar sighed. Some people lacked creativity. Kylar turned his attention to the District 5 victors which, as some Capitol commentator is probably ironically pointing out, now numbered at five. The District's oldest victor and the four victors that he helped mentor all died from food poisoning five months ago at a party. The Sa'kage claimed they had nothing to do with it. Kylar swept his eyes across the remaining victors: two morphlings, a robust man who made a point of nodding occasionally during Mayor Gunder's speech and an old lady who was snoring in her seat. Most of District 5's victors were terrible. _Most, but not all._ Kylar finally let his eyes rest only victor that gave all tributes a fighting chance, Durzo Blint.

Of course, Durzo wasn't Durzo. He was Master Tulii, expert swordsman and maniac with a crossbow. Durzo was reaped before Kylar was born, but apparently, the Sa'kage put Durzo in the arena to teach him a lesson that, of course, backfired. The master wetboy's house in Victor's Village was all he needed to remind the Sa'kage they were not as omnipotent as they claimed. Durzo sat emotionless in his seat, his eyes lazily scanning the crowd.

"So who's excited for the reaping?" Anita exclaimed. Kylar was hoping she wasn't actually waiting for a response. "Let the odds be ever in your favor! Who should go first _this _year?" Anita paused theatrically and, after it became apparent that no one would speak up, continued. "Ladies it is!" She plunged her well-manicured hand into the bowl, building up the suspense by making a good show of stirring up the ballets. "And…the female tribute for the 67th Hunger Games is…Mallory Beanie!"

Kylar released a breath he didn't realize he was holding. Durzo was 9-0. Kylar watched as Mallory, a chubby girl of 13 with short, red pigtails, climbed on stage. She looked shell-shocked. Kylar assumed the guilty and horrified looking man in the crowd was her father, the man who kept putting off repaying the Sa'kage until he could "win it back."

"Congratulations, Mallory!" Anita said perkily, apparently oblivious this girl was being sent to her death. "Do we have any volunteers?"

_A required question, always with the same response._ Silence resounded through the square. Mallory looked down at the stage, biting her bottom lip so she wouldn't cry on camera.

"Now, it's time for the boys!"

Kylar easily spotted Kusco in the crowd of 15 year old boys, but forced himself to look away. He didn't want to see Kusco's expression when the inevitable happened. Kylar instead focused on Anita's hand. _Huh, one of her nails is chipped. What would the Capitol say? _

"Kylar Stern!"

_Wait—what?_

Kylar almost refused to believe he just heard his name. His eyes meet Durzo's. He looked shocked…well, shocked for Durzo anyway.

_Fuck. _

Kylar slowly made his way toward the stage, passing Logan. He numbly climbed up the steps, his face expressionless.

"Kylar!" Anita said with way too much enthusiasm. Kylar was beginning to feel the beginnings of a migraine. "Congratulations." Kylar smiled sardonically at her. "Do we have any volunteers?"

Kylar glanced briefly around the square. He took in the horrified expression on Mrs. Drake's face, the silent tears on Mags and Illena, the anger on Mr. Drake's, the disbelief in Serah's, and…the determination in Logan's?

"I volunteer!"

_Idiot._

The square murmured in surprise as the crowd parted for Logan. "I volunteer as tribute."

"Marvelous!" Anita exclaimed.

_Wait one fucking moment…_

"Hold on," Kylar said, anger leaking into his voice. He could not let Logan die in the arena. Logan needed to live and make the world a better place by being Logan. Kylar was a killer. He could take care of himself. "_My _name got called so don't I _technically _have the right to be District 5's tribute?"

The crowd started buzzing. A tribute who didn't want to be saved by the rare volunteer? Unprecedented in the poorer districts.

Logan looked confused. "Yes, but I volunteer. You don't have to do this."

"Neither do you," Kylar snapped. "I have first dibs. Right?"

"That's one way to put it," Anita nodded, her sheen curls bouncing. The excitement of some action before the Hunger Games was almost too much for her.

"Right, well, I want to be the tribute," Kylar said, feeling ineloquent, but determined not to let Logan unnecessarily throw his life away. Logan stared at Kylar uncomprehendingly as Anita chattered about the technical rule that proved that Kylar indeed had "first dibs."

"District 5, I give you, your tributes!" Anita exclaimed. Kylar and Mallory shook hands as the crowd gave a thunderous applause, apparently all the drama gave them hope for a decent representation this time. _Another year, more dead children, yippee._

**Oh and Mags is not the eighty year old in the Hunger Games book. She's the middle Drake daughter. I couldn't remember her name so I had to look it up. Imagine my surprise **


	2. Chapter 2

Oh and I'd like to thank Maeve for reviewing! I wasn't sure if anyone would actually read this, but I thought it would be a nice combo too ^.^

**Non Night Angel people: Talent = magic. Wetboys have to have Talent in order to be a wetboy and not a highly trained assassin. Kylar's Talent is weird and he won't be able to access it until he gains a certain object ^.^ which he won't get during the Hunger Games btw**

** Oh and I made Kylar an orphan (as in Kylar Stern, not Azoth—even though he's an orphan too). I couldn't remember if rich Kylar Stern had rich Stern parents so I decided he was a rich Stern orphan **

Kylar paced in his Justice Building room. It was nice. Lots of red, heavily cushioned couches and strategically placed tissues. The room prepared for the sole purpose of creating a warm atmosphere. Plus there was a fireplace…so that was cheerful. As long as you didn't see the fire and remember all the past tributes burning or the red reminded you of blood. He supposed they did remind him of that…vaguely, but mostly he was picking up the comfort vibe. Kylar came to terms about his new status of being a tribute after about the first thirty seconds. A tribute with 1/24 chance of winning, but he still felt he held the advantage. He was a wetboy in all but Talent and he already knew what it was like to take a life of a stranger. So all in all, he felt confident, definitely comfortable, with the position he was in. He would rather not be included in the Hunger Games at all, but apparently he upset the Sa'kage so here he was.

The Peacekeepers opened the door and Mrs. Drake ran through. Kylar was quickly engulfed in a warm hug that morphed into a dog pile as Serah, Mags, and Illena threw themselves at him. As he felt parts of his shirt get wet, he guilty put his confident, general relaxed attitude away. They didn't need cocky. They needed Kylar.

"It's going to be fine," he whispered.

Illena sobbed. "I'm s-sorry, Kylar!"

"For what?" Kylar asked gently, as he slowly untangled himself. The girls looked heartbroken. Mr. Drake looked depressed, but, like Kylar, knew that he stood a better chance than most contestants of winning.

"Everything!" Illena cried. "I just…I'm going to miss you, Kylar!" She crashed back into his arms and Kylar didn't hesitate to pull her in for another hug. She hiccupped against his chest.

"Yeah, Kylar…you're…you're the brother we never had," Mags said as she leaned her forehead against his shoulder.

"We love you…even if you did stink when you first arrived at our house," Serah said.

Kylar bit back an unexpected laugh. Serah smirked and winked at Kylar, her small jib not covering up the resigned look in her eye.

Mr. Drake cleared his throat. "Kylar, we want you to have this for your District token." Kylar frowned as he felt something cold press against his hand. He glanced down. It was a ring. A black ring with silver crossing over it like spider webs, a Drake family heirloom that was worth a hell of a lot more than the life of a street rat.

Kylar swallowed past the sudden lump in his throat. "Thank you."

A Peacekeeper opened the door, interrupting Mr. Drake's reply and indicating the meeting was clearly over.

_That could not possibly be five minutes._

"You've always been a part of this family," Mrs. Drake said as she kissed his cheek.

"See you soon," Kylar said, hoping he successfully conveyed his feelings. I love you, you guys are the family I always wanted, I don't want to leave you, be safe without me. Mrs. Drake's small smile was a little reassuring. Kylar took it to mean he was at least partly successful.

Mr. Drake pulled Kylar in for a hug. "Remember your training," he breathed, "even if it costs you everything." Kylar blinked as Mr. Drake was prodded out of the room by the waiting Peacemaker. Meeting was over. _Ass…_but now one thing was for certain—he had to win. For them.

The door opened again. Logan. Well, it wasn't like Kylar didn't expect him to come.

There was an overbearing silence.

"Hey," Kylar said.

"Why?"

The question penetrated the room. Kylar wearily stared at Logan. "Same reason you volunteered. I didn't want you to go into the arena."

"But I'm bigger, more muscles—"

"More likely to be a target than a shrimpy guy like me," Kylar said softly.

"But the Drakes—"

"Couldn't stand to lose you either." Time to make it hurt. "What about Serah?"

Logan winced.

"And your parents? They would be a wreck if you went. You're respectable, dependable…" _You have a life here._

"But your family—"

"Is dead."

"Is _here._ Me, the Drakes."

"Logan, that applies to you too," Kylar snapped. Fine, he wasn't a diplomat. He could accept that. "Plus a shitload of other people. Honestly, it's better for everyone if I go."

"Are you saying you don't matter?" Logan asked angrily.

Kylar was silent.

"Kylar, you matter—"

"To the Drakes and you, yeah I get it," Kylar interrupted. "Just accept I'm going to the Hunger Games and, for Gods' sake, stop acting like I'll never come back!"

Logan's eyes widened. "No, Kylar, I just—"

"Times up," the Peacekeeper said. Kylar could begin to hate that guy. What a terrible way to end a conversation.

"I didn't want you to go through it!" Logan's cry was cut off by the slamming of the door. Nice solid door. Oak.

"I know," Kylar said to the oak door, "and that's why I have to go."

And Kylar wasn't honestly expecting anyone else to show up. Sure he had some rich friends he made out of necessity. Connections would make the world so much easier when he was a full-fledged wetboy, but none of those friends were particularly close. Some of them might feel guilty enough to sponsor him though. Which was actually an interesting notion…

The door clicked quietly shut. Kylar repressed the urge to swing around wildly. Standing in the room was Durzo, his lips pressed together in a hard, straight line.

Kylar watched Durzo, knowing his master would speak when he was ready. He hadn't expected him to show up at all. Durzo was his mentor, and Mallory's he supposed. Didn't this show some sort of favoritism?

"Why did I get chosen? What happened to Kusco Floke?"

Durzo popped a piece of garlic in his mouth. "His parents apparently presented the Sa'kage with valuable Peacekeeper information two days ago. So the Sa'kage reconsidered and left the boy tribute up to fate."

"Ironic," Kylar said.

"You do realize," Durzo started slowly, "that you'll have to forget most of your training."

Kylar blinked.

"Kylar Stern is from a rich family from a moderate District. He can't be like the Careers, but he can at least be skilled in a few particular weapons."

"You want me to forget my training?"

"If you want to come out alive."

"Funny, I thought that's what my training was for." Kylar didn't see the blow, but he expected it. He was a bit cheeky, but honestly he had a reason to be.

Kylar rubbed the side of his head from the slight stinging. _At least it wouldn't affect him during the Hunger Game_.

"Your training would make you the winner, if it didn't, you wouldn't deserve to be a wetboy," Durzo said matter-of-factly. Kylar didn't even bother to wonder if it was a backward compliment. "_Theoretically,_ let's say you use your training to win the game. What would happen when you returned to District 5? Wouldn't people wonder where a rich boy received such assassin-like training? Wouldn't the Peacekeepers put two and two together and say 'Doesn't that seem familiar?' Wouldn't the whole Gods-damned District connect _you _and _your training _to the Sa'kage?"

Kylar felt an uneasy prickle run up his spine. "I guess…"

"I _know_, boy, and guess what? The Sa'kage has no need for an ambassador to the outside world. They work better in the shadows. If too many people connect you to the Sa'kage, they'll kill you…if the good citizens of District 5 don't do it first. "

"But people know you."

"I'm a myth," Durzo snapped. "I'm the ghost stories told by bar patrons. People heard of me, Peacekeepers know I'm real, clients at least think there's a person profiting off of Durzo's persona. No one knows Tulii and Durzo are one and the same. They never will."

"So—"

"Forget your training," Durzo emphasized. "Forget me. The only thing you know about me is what everyone around town knows about Tulii. Pick a weapon you're an expert at, and a couple you're moderate with. Act charming, like you're glad you won the right to be there. Win allies, the more Careers the better, stab them in the back. Play it like you're in it for the glory, the Careers will accept it and it'll help explain why you refused to let Gyre take your place. And _do not_ kill too many people. Set them on to each other or arrange an accident, but don't reveal your training. Or you'll die." Durzo opened his mouth as if to say something else, but grimaced and left with a click of the door. What a nice door. Oak.

Kylar let out a breath. He had to win the Hunger Games, not by skill, but forged luck. Dread crept over his heart. For the first time, Kylar began to doubt he could make it out alive.

**So…what do you think?**


	3. Chapter 3

**Thanks for all the reviews! You guys are the best! I was never sure how popular this fandom would be but I'm glad you guys like my idea **

**For clarification: this is the 67****th**** Hunger Games. There will be no Katniss or Peeta in this story. **

**Non Hunger Games people: Avoxs = slaves of the Capitol with their tongues cut out.**

Kylar gave a final wave to the swarms of reporters when avoxes slide the train doors shut. He let out a sigh as he turned his back to the train station, to District 5. His winning-aren't-I-so-charming-and-happy-to-be-here smile was starting to hurt his cheeks.

Mallory Beanie studied him, not having the decency, or wit, to be subtle about it.

"What?" Kylar snapped, trying to lighten his annoyed tone at the last moment once he realized that she was the closest thing to a genuine ally he probably would get.

Mallory flinched anyways. "You just seem to be…into this," she stammered.

Kylar prepared to spiel a cocky answer, but he hesitated. Mallory looked up at him with watering brown eyes. A pang of guilt hit him at his earlier gratitude that she was tribute and not Mags or Illena. "It's called acting for the cameras," he said lightly.

"Oh…"

"This way children!" Anita screeched, digging her manicured claws into the tributes' shoulders. "You need to meet your mentors!"

Mallory sucked in a wavering breath.

"It'll be wonderful!" Anita continued. "I just have the most _marvelous_ feeling about this year. I smell lots of sponsors." The escort winked conspiratorially at Kylar which he chose to ignore. "Your mentors should be pleased, I'd say."

"Just imagine if they can actually fight, eh?" the robust man from earlier, Penguid, nudged Dur-Tulii.

Tulii smirked in return. Not even the deadly smirk Kylar was used to. A genuine, humorous grin that rarely saw the light of day, it was all Kylar could do not to gawk. "Anita may be overcome with shock."

"Ahem," Anita cleared her throat while throwing the mentors a meaningful look. "Mallory, Kylar, here are your mentors, Master Tulii and Master Penguid."

"Please," Penguid cried, "none of this 'master' nonsense. Just Penguid and Tulii. Being called 'master' makes me feel like I own you or something." This made Kylar feel unexpectedly sheepish.

"Alright, Mast-Penguid," Mallory mumbled. Penguid's eyes softened as he took in Mallory's obvious nerves and red eyes.

"Come now, Mallory," Penguid said. "Let's eat."

"We have fantastic food selections," Anita gushed. "Lamb, crabs, cheese filled potato crisps…"

"Our pork isn't bad either," Penguid said. "My weakness, I'm afraid." He rubbed his stomach so forlornly, it made Mallory giggle. "So dig in, never mind manners, they're for rich people."

Anita shot Penguid a glare. "Manners are needed. _Some _us of don't want to turn into barbarians."

"You should loosen up, Anita," Tulii said. "You might become halfway appealing."

Anita harrumphed as Mallory traded an almost cheerful glance with Kylar as they loaded up their plates. Kylar smiled back at her. He almost felt sorry for judging Penguid so harshly during the reaping.

"So what do you do?" Tulii asked, addressing Kylar and Mallory for the first time.

Kylar immediately put a faintly cocky look on his face. "Sword, knives and spears."

Tulii nodded considerately while Durzo frowned at his pupil. _What? Was spear a little out there? Sure usually Careers and tributes from District 4 were the spear experts, but Kylar wanted a further ranged weapon than a knife and a non-Career knowing how to use a spear seemed more plausible than being an expert at a bow or crossbow. _

"Interesting," Penguid said, "what about you, doll?"

Mallory's earlier cheerfulness vanished as she studied her plate. "I don't really know how to do anything…"

Anita studied her plate while Penguid and Tulii shared a look.

"Surely there's something?" Penguid asked gently.

Mallory gulped as she shook her head. A quavering hand picked up her fork as she attempted to continue her meal. Kylar felt a lump fall to the bottom of his stomach. This whole situation was made worse because the Sa'kage rigged the tribute result. She was an innocent child whose only downfall was her dad couldn't control his gambling. It was despicable. Kylar's eyes drifted down towards his own plate when he caught a glint out of the corner of his eye.

"Wait," he said, "you have a dagger."

"What?" Mallory said, looking down in surprise. "Well yeah, but how am I going to win with that? Throw daggers at people?"

"That's how some boy won a few years ago," Kylar said.

"Exactly!" Penguid said, relief obvious in his eyes. "How's your aim?"

"Um…okay, I guess," Mallory said. "I just had it for protection. My dad only taught me the basics."

"Hit that pig's head over there," Tulii said, "on the right eye."

Mallory stood up, trying to hide her nerves by tucking her bushy hair behind her ears. She focused on the pig, took aim, and threw.

_Thwunk._

"Pig's forehead…not bad," Tulii smiled at her. Kylar tried to rear in the wave of jealously. Durzo rarely offered him a compliment, even _when _he did whatever was requested perfectly. But this wasn't Durzo, its Tulii. Mallory was just getting extra attention because of her obvious youth. At least he was 17. Kylar glanced over at Mallory's smiling face. She wouldn't make it. Penguid knew. Tulii knew. Even Anita knew. They were all just happy because she wouldn't be completely defenseless during the game. Kylar glanced down at his plate. He wanted to help her. He really did. Mallory, even though she annoyingly reminded him of Illena, was the enemy. Kylar would only make it harder on himself if he started to care. Love was a noose, after all.

Anita glanced down at her watch, the gold and silver design somehow emphasized by the purple dye on Anita's skin. "I do believe that the reaping recaps are on. Let's size up the competition, shall we?" Not waiting for an answer, she pressed a button that slide a previously hidden panel on the wall, revealing a huge, flat screen TV.

"How many beats that the District 1 and 2 tributes are eighteen, buff, brawny and took up swordplay when they were toddlers?" Penguid said.

"How many beats that Haymitch is nursing a beer?" Tulii shot back.

"Who's Haymitch?" Mallory quietly asked.

"District 12 victor," Kylar said. "The last one living." Kylar then could've sworn that Penguid said 'Bless his soul' but Panem's anthem blared from the speakers.

Like every year, the first two Districts had teenage warriors as their victors, all volunteers. One was sixteen, however, so Tulii gladly relieved Penguid of some of his money. District 3 and 4 had no notable tributes, except for the drop dead gorgeous girl tribute from District 4. First Finnick, now her, District 4 really had the cream of the crop, didn't they? Next was their District, which one of the commentators _did _point out how the victors now numbered at five. TV Mallory was obviously shocked during the whole thing while TV Kylar remained stoic except for when Logan tried to volunteer to take his place. The commentators murmured amongst themselves with delight and surprise by the brief spectacle. One remarked that District 5 might finally have a decent representation. Add a joke about District 5's losing streak, President Snow, and last year's 'what were we thinking' toe webbing trend and then it was on to the District 6.

"I painted a target on my back, haven't I?" Kylar asked dryly. Durzo's eyes said it all. 'Why, yes. Yes, you did.' Kylar could've sworn there was something else about how if he and Logan weren't so dramatic, this never would've happened, but Kylar was sure he was reading too much into Durzo's expression.

"More of a 'hey look at me' target," Penguid said optimistically. "Everyone will probably be more worried about the tributes from 1, 2, and 4."

"But still wary of you," Tulii said. "The Careers will be more interested."

The poorer Districts offered no more noteworthy tributes except the muscular eighteen year old from 10 and the twelve year old from 8. Then the recap finally reached District 12.

"Hold on," Tulii said, squinting at the screen. "What's that? Could it possibly be a drink in Haymitch's hand? Nah, that's too out of character…What say you, Penguid?" Penguid rolled his eyes while he tossed Tulii more money.

"Watch and learn from Tulii, kids," Penguid lectured half-jokingly. "Reading people and predicting their moves is key in this game."

Anita sighed softly. "Every time I'm feeling down, I just thank my lucky stars I'm not Effie. Stuck in District 12, poor dear."

"We all feel for you, Anita," Kylar said sardonically after a few moments of silence.

The TV Effie cheerfully spoke into the microphone, describing what an honor it was to be chosen and all the typical Capitol propaganda. She started with the girls, as usual, which brought forth a skinny, plain girl in her mid-teens, also as usual. The commentators were a bit bored by now, but hid it by stating random facts about the District. Apparently coals made diamonds. Or was it pearls? The commentators debated about that fact for quite a bit. Another commentator spoke of how something beautiful was hidden under such an ugly exterior and maybe District 12 was the same. It was supposed to sound philosophical. It came out more like a slap across the face. The crowd buzzed as Effie called the boy tribute. The _blind _boy tribute. A Peacekeeper had to lead him up to the stage. The commentators faltered as the crowd gave a displeased murmur.

"There should be rulings against these types of things," Penguid grumbled.

"That would imply the Capitol had a heart," Tulii said, causing Anita to gasp. The national anthem played, indicating the end of the reapings.

"Well, you should probably head off to bed now," Anita said, clearly flabbergasted. "We're going to arrive at the Capitol tomorrow. First the ceremony, then it's training, training, training."—nervous giggle—"Very big day. Here, follow me." Mallory quietly followed. Kylar glanced back at his mentors before he joined the ladies. He wanted to think about his competition before he arrived at the Capitol anyway.

~O~

"Well that made Anita leave quickly didn't it?" Penguid said. "You really shouldn't say things like that."

"It's true," Durzo said. Yet very stupid to say. He didn't normally speak treason when he was Tulii.

"You know how the Capitol is," Penguid said.

"It was a slip, my friend," Durzo said. "After seeing that boy…"

"I hate it when we mentor kids we know won't make it," Penguid said, "and listening to those commentators joke about how none of our kids made it past the first day in a decade…I understand why Haymitch is an alcoholic. Can you imagine being the only mentor to a District that hasn't won in years?"

Durzo grimaced. He considered himself hardened over the years, but the unnecessary killing of kids in the games was still a draining and mind numbing experience. "So what about our tributes this year?"

"Mallory…" Penguid began, "I know she won't make it, but I still hope I can go back to the District without fearing to meet her family's eyes."

Durzo swallowed his drink. Her dad was probably getting alcohol poisoning or begging to the Sa'kage, despite the little good it would do now. "She at least seems like she can fight back. She's bright; she'll survive for a few days as long as she doesn't head towards Cornucopia."

"It's almost worse to watch them after a few days even when you and Panem already know their fate," Penguid said. "That Kylar will probably go far. He's cocky though. Might die in Cornucopia."

Durzo shrugged noncommittally. If Kylar used his head and didn't reveal his training, he'll be fine.

"He reminds me of you actually," Penguid said unexpectedly.

"Why?" Durzo asked, honestly taken aback.

"Just the way he watches people, takes everything in. I feel like he can see inside me. He has this…air around him that seems dangerous. The people at the Capitol and the Careers will definitely take note," Penguid said. "He's a smartass too."

"I see into the depths of your soul, do I?" Tulii teased. Durzo was reeling inside. Kylar had a dangerous air? Durzo didn't sense it, but he was around the boy 24/7. How in the name of the Night Angels was he supposed to make Kylar lose _that_? He didn't appreciate this unexpected obstacle. If Kylar was actually considered one of the main threats, it would make things unnecessarily complicated.

"Oh haha," Penguid said mockingly. "No surprise from the first few Districts, eh?"

"Not really," Durzo agreed. "Those boys from 10 and 2 were huge."

"Mhmm," Penguid hummed as he poured him and Durzo a drink. "To the 67th Hunger Games."

"May the odds be ever in our favor," Durzo said mockingly as they clinked glasses. They were reaching the Capitol tomorrow. It was almost time to plump up the kids before cheering for their deaths. Durzo swallowed the rest of his liquor in one gulp. He was going to need another drink.


	4. Chapter 4

**I love all you guys for reviewing! And sorry if these next few chapters seem rushed. I want to get into the actual Hunger Games soon. So many ideas… **

"You want me to wear _what_?" an indignant female shout echoed through the halls.

"See? That's why we like you Kylar," Debbie said as she ripped off hair that apparently offended her in some way, shape or form. "You don't complain."

"Even during the waxing," Flun said, flicking a gold lock of hair away from his cat eyes.

"Especially during the waxing," Vix agreed vehemently. "When we get cry babies we always go _extra _slow peeling off the wax paper."

Kylar's prep team continued to chatter as they made him presentable for the stylist. His only contribution to their conversation was either a nod or a smirk, both which were deemed satisfactory.

"I can't wait until I can be a stylist," Debbie sighed whimsically as she finished rubbing off the remains of the strange, orange cream Flun spread on Kylar's face earlier—apparently it was supposed to stop his 5 o'clock shadow during the games. Can't have the tributes looking ragged, can we?

"In time, love," Flun said. The entire prep team turned as a whole and sighed at Kylar with satisfaction. Kylar flushed faintly, very aware of his only clothing item was a thin robe.

"Time for Yethi," Vix murmured. "Come. Let's leave Kylar with the expert."

Kylar waved good-bye to his prep team as they left with theatrically dejected expressions. He nibbled on some type of croissant as he awaited his stylist. Thankfully, District 5 was a District that rarely had nude representations during the opening ceremony. Maybe the odds would finally be in his favor.

"Don't you look scrumptious?" a nasally voice behind him purred.

Kylar closed his eyes, hoping that voice didn't belong to his stylist. He turned around slowly.

"I'm Yethi." Kylar felt his hopes drop as he took in his stylist. Wrinkles were pulled back with one too many facelifts in an attempt for youth and his green hair oddly resembled a lion's mane. Yep, not a classic Capitol stylist at all.

"So what's the plan this year?" Kylar asked, trying not to feel self-conscious as Yethi's eyes roamed Kylar's scarcely clad body.

"You will become lightening!" Yethi said dramatically as he clapped his hands with excitement.

"Ahh," Kylar said intelligently as a mental picture of him and Mallory wearing a shiny, silver costume flash in his mind. "Are you sure cause…"

"Hush, hush," Yethi said impatiently. "Work needs to be done!"

~O~

Kylar picked at his sleeve. His very reflective, shimmery gold sleeve. It of course had to be much worse than he imagined. Lightening his ass. He would be a better representation of District 4, all he needed were the gills.

"So our outfits…" Mallory started, identical to Kylar, from lightening crown to bedazzled boots.

"I really don't want to talk about it," Kylar moaned.

Mallory giggled. "But we look so sexy."

He stared at the thirteen year old.

"Kidding," Mallory said, making a placating hand motion.

"It's not funny," Kylar said.

"Sure it is!" Mallory said. "I mean, who _wouldn't _want to sponsor us?"

"Weren't you quiet earlier?" Kylar asked rhetorically.

Mallory shrugged innocently. "It's possible."

"Aren't you two adorable?" the amused voice beside them sneered.

"At least we aren't planning on winning by cleavage alone," Mallory shot back to the District 4 tribute. Kylar took a moment to wonder if Mallory was always this snarky or if her nerves found a different outlet.

The girl leered, her calculating green eyes observing Kylar.

Kylar smirked back, doing an obvious once over on District 4's skimpy costume. Apparently, she was a mermaid…or a type of slutty fish. It was hard to tell, really.

Instead of turning embarrassed, as Kylar expected, the red head nonchalantly fixed a glittery net on her shoulder as she winked flirtatiously at him.

"Your attitude would annoy me more if I didn't already know how dramatically your life span will end once we hit the arena," the District 4 tribute said, smirking at Mallory's alarmed expression.

"And I would almost consider you a threat if I didn't already know you'll never become a victor," Kylar said conversationally. Both redheads, from District 4 and 5, stared at Kylar in surprise. _Crap, what happened to not getting involved with Mallory? Now I made an enemy who wants to kill me _and _will have several male allies and for what? To defend a little girl. Night Angels. _He smirked at District 4, not letting his inner turmoil show. _Don't get close to Mallory, it'll only be worse in the end. _

District 4 snorted. "See you later." She managed to make that simple phrase sound like a threat. Brilliant. Hopefully, a tragic accident will eliminate her on the first day…or maybe she could be one of the few people he actually kills. Kylar only knew her for about ten minutes and he could already tell she was a manipulative wench who would probably bat her gorgeous eyes to gain "protection."

"Alright, everyone board your chariots!" a Capitol attendant yelled, his clipboard flailing in his hands. "The ceremony is starting in one minute!"

"Do you think we're supposed to pose or something?" Kylar asked Mallory as they sank into the plush chariot cushion. He turned at the chatterbox's silence.

"What?" he asked bluntly.

"I just wanted to thank you," Mallory said, playing with a loose string on the cushion, "for saying that to Viridiana."

"To who?" Kylar asked.

"Viridiana," Mallory said, frowning at his blank stare. "District 4 girl? Honestly, Kylar…"

He shrugged sheepishly.

"_Anyway,_" Mallory continued, "just…thanks for sticking up for me. It means a lot."

"It's…I…no problem."

"I know I'm not the best ally," the chubby red head continued, scuffing her annoyingly bright boot on the floor. "I'm probably just going to die in the first few seconds, but—"

"Districts have to stick together," Kylar said, interrupting Mallory's depressingly realistic monologue. "Besides, I couldn't let Vir-blah-di-blah say that about you after your great comeback."

Mallory flushed with pleasure. "It was pretty awesome."

"We're going in 10…9," the Capitol attendant began.

"So back to the pose thing," Kylar said.

Mallory giggled. "What are you a girl? Who cares? Let's just look happy and wave. It's not like we'll be easily overlooked."

Kylar smiled at Mallory as District 1's chariot rolled out. "You might have a point."

He fixed a fierce grin on his face as their chariot followed District 4. Many crowd members wolf whistled at the District 4's tantalizing costumes. Kylar and Mallory received a more muted response, but thanks to Yethi's design, they attracted many stares as their outfits reflected back the numerous camera flashes. Maybe the old pervert did know what he was doing.

Their chariots finally rolled to a stop in the loop on City Circle, many of their potential sponsors surveying them on balconies above. Kylar hoped that they weren't judging the tributes solely on their getup. He glanced back to the lower Districts. District 12 had black rocks that formed a skimpy swimsuit with coal dust covering their exposed skin and District 10 and 11 both resembled plants. At least District 5 wasn't the worst even if they were the most obnoxious.

The Panem anthem played, signaling the beginning of President Snow's annual Hunger Games Speech. Kylar kept his expression impassive but fixed a slight smirk on his face, hoping that whenever the cameras focused on District 5 he wouldn't look bored.

A long ten minutes later, the tribute's chariots were engulfed by the Training Center's large doors, never to be seen by the public again until their interview and the Hunger Games. Yethi and another man Kylar didn't recognize but assumed was Mallory's stylist awaited them.

"You did brilliantly!" said Mallory's stylist, who Kylar later learned was sickeningly named Yothi. Mallory beamed. Kylar nodded distractedly as he noticed Vi leaning toward the District 1 male tribute. District 1's eyes wandered down as Vi swooned into his muscular arm. She didn't waste a moment, he'd grant her that. Kylar glanced back as other potential allies and absently wondered if the large boy from 10 would be with the Careers this year. He didn't want to try and gain 10's trust for no reason.

The twelve year old from District 8 walked past, her delicate, doll-like features causing Kylar to shift his eyes away guiltily. He didn't want to meet her in the arena.

"Kylar?" Mallory asked, giving the impression that she had been trying to get his attention for a while. "Want to head up to our floor?"

He nodded, expecting his room to be outrageously expensive and unnecessarily luxurious. What else could someone expect from the Capitol?

"Yes, tomorrow is when you begin your training," Anita said, appearing from the midst of the bustlingly Capitol attendants. "Get your rest! It'll be a big day!"


	5. Chapter 5

**I'd like to thank my beta: Paragon of Awesomeness =)**

It was surprisingly easy to befriend the Careers. It almost reminded Kylar of his very first missions—at first appearing difficult but then turning absurdly simple once he actually put some thought into it. He found that if he acted loud, obnoxious and occasionally swung a sword expertly, most of the Careers would treat him with instant camaraderie. He was almost amused by the majority's naïveté. Annoyingly enough though, the District 1 boy had morals, which threw Kylar off momentarily, but he quickly adapted his cocky attitude, and now Morals was under the impression that Kylar was a moron. A moron who was admittedly good with a sword, but not someone actually considered a threat. Kylar swung at the dummy, cutting it cleanly in half with one fluid motion, as he laughed at something Roth, District 2's boy tribute, said.

"I'm the first one in my family to actually make it here," Roth boasted. "My brothers were always 'too slow' at raising their hands when they asked for volunteers."

"No, no, no, no," Amethyst, District 1 girl, said, "the best excuse _my _siblings had were that they were going to bulk up for next year. Then oopsies! They're over 18! Drats." She rolled her sparkling purple eyes for good measure.

Kylar found himself snorting. "At least you didn't have a giant, spoiled brat trying to steal your place." He ignored the slightly acidic feeling in his stomach. "Did you see the reapings? I almost didn't make it here because they all assumed I'd jump at the first chance to get out."

"I know, man!" Roth said. "That was badass! You got all angry and the giant marshmallow was like 'whoa!'"

"Really, a marshmallow?" Vi drawled as she strung up her bow in the next station. She did…_something _and somehow the bow now served as a sex prop. Roth was drooling. Amethyst was glaring. Vi's own District partner stared at her stoically, definitely exercising his tall, dark, and creepy look. "Even though, _Ky_,"—Kylar felt his eyes narrow—"I think everyone was wondering why someone from a…_less fortunate _District would act so eager to be here."

"Just as I'm sure everyone is wondering why a pretty thing like you volunteered," Kylar retorted. "But I suppose as long as you don't use your looks to your advantage—Oh, wait…"

Amethyst cackled. Kylar shared a smirk with her. Obviously, she would also help in his attempts to sabotage Vi. Vi was Amethyst's main competition, after all. Amethyst was attractive in her own right, but her blonde hair and flawless skin dulled in comparison to Viridiana's naturally gorgeous, not to mention unbelievably sexy, appearance. The District 4 female tribute had stolen Amethyst's strategy, and forced Amethyst to survive on her wits, which Kylar considered cruel.

Vi glared at Kylar for a moment before huffing and sauntering over to the camouflage station, which was currently only occupied by the giant from 10. Kylar almost admired her persistent search for allies. Someone, possible the quiet District 2 girl, mumbled about some people wearing their heart on their sleeve. Kylar managed to suppress a snort. No need to offend someone just because they're stupid. Vi was easily one of the most cunning people on the field.

Roth interrupted Kylar's musings with a loud challenge to a spear throwing contest. Kylar internally rolled his eyes, but outwardly insulted Roth's mother, and was planning on inquiring whether he was a product of incest when he beat Roth at said contest.

~O~

Kylar glanced at the other Tributes during the lunch break with a seething Roth to his left and Morals to his right. Everyone, besides the Careers and Kylar, were sitting either by themselves or relatively close to their District ally. None of the other Districts mingled, he was pleased to note. Another alliance forming would make things unnecessarily difficult.

Next came an awkward moment Kylar didn't bother to anticipate: Mallory standing uncertainly in the middle of the cafeteria holding her lunch tray. She glanced at the Career table which Kylar currently occupied, and then to an empty table on the opposite end. He took a bite from his sandwich as he quickly went through possible scenarios. He could invite her over, make the Careers grudgingly not hate her, but that move could all to easily result in the Careers giving Kylar the cold shoulder, and giving Vi the perfect opportunity to use Mallory against him. On the other hand, he could ignore her, feel guilty, look like a total douche and apologize to her later in private. Votes are in…yep, option two. Kylar deliberately turned away from Mallory and took a sip of a blue drink he'd never seen before. Cue pang of guilt as Mallory visibly deflated and trudged toward an empty table.

"You can sit over here," a soft, melodic voice called. Kylar felt a wave of relief at the District 8 girl's call. Mallory perked up and sat by the twelve year old. He smiled into his cup, feeling slightly satisfied for a moment. Until a terrible chain reaction occurred. The meshing of Districts 5 and 8 caused, to Kylar's dismay, the other Districts to slowly drift from their own solitude to follow District 8 and Mallory's trend.

"Aww," Amethyst cooed. Oh how Kylar wanted to strangle her. "Look at all the other wittle Districts sit at the same table. Isn't that just precious?"

"It's almost like they're trying to form their own alliance," cried Pamiana, District 3 tribute. Amethyst dissolved into giggles, and the other Careers quickly followed suit, but Kylar noticed a slight worry form in Vi and Pamiana's eyes. At least he wasn't the only one to sense a problem. Much of everybody's strategies relied on the automatic fractures between opposing Districts. Sure, it could be anticipated that a few of the Tributes would team up out of necessity, but _all _the Tributes banding against the Careers… His eyes met Vi's and a mutual agreement passed. It was time to nip this alliance in the bud before it had a chance to thrive.

~O~

Lunch break was over, and with it came the return to the Training Center. But in contrast of this morning, when all the poorer Districts cowered in a corner or attempted to train, a new mood of determined hope swept through the room. At least in the Districts 5 and up. Most of the Careers seemed oblivious to the change in atmosphere. Pamiana remained cautiously wary, Morals seemed forever indifferent, and Kylar knew that they would be useless in breaking up this potential threat. He was almost glad that he had Vi on his side for this.

Kylar approached the camouflage station currently occupied by the Tributes from Districts 6 and 7. He ignored their hard stares as he pretended to listen to the instructor. Durzo made sure that Kylar could blend into any situation, in any setting, with any materials. He felt that he more than excelled in this area. Kylar nodded at the end of the instructor's lecture as he began to badly blend materials on his arm. He allowed himself an internal, knowing smirk at the other Tributes' leer to his obviously bad blending job.

The District 6 girl sneered. "What, decided that the Careers didn't give you a big enough welcome party?"

"It's not like he's welcomed here either," District 10 boy rumbled from behind Kylar.

Kylar suppressed the urge to gape at the District 10 boy's large frame. Maybe Kylar was lucky and the District 10 tribute was all muscle and no brain.

"Last I checked, the Training Center was for _all _the Districts," wetboy-in-training said dryly.

"Last I checked, little turncoats like you try to weasel your way into every group," District 10 boy snarled. Damn. Sounded like he had brain to go with that muscle. "Why don't you go back to your traitorous friends?"

"At least I'm not the one being wooed by a 'traitor,'" Kylar said evenly. District 10's eyes narrowed as he spotted the girl from his District laughing at something Roth said. He stormed over, very light on his feet for such a big person, Kylar noted glumly.

"So why are the Careers traitors?" District 7 boy, Pa-something, asked the District 7 girl, who was also a Pa-something. Night Angels, Kylar really needed to start learning some names.

"Not really sure," Kylar said apathetically, "I mean, I get why he thinks I'm a traitor, but the Careers? Not so much."

"Maybe because they're just really, _really _rich," male Pa-something said thoughtfully. District 6 girl—Lesley! Kylar would bet anything it was Lesley—glared at the District 7 boy.

Kylar snorted and pretended he didn't notice the unsubtle exchange between the District 6 and 7 girls. "The Career Districts may have the Capitol's favor, but I'd hardly call them rich. Besides, if having money makes you a traitor, then everybody in the Capitol is guilty of treason." He knew that the people who ran the Capitol were corrupt to the core, but that was hardly something he'd admit when those same people had cameras recording him from at least six different angles.

"And President Snow!" District 7 boy exclaimed and then continued with mock-sadness. "Oh the awkward moment when you find out your leader is actually a traitor…"

Kylar mentally face palmed. He thought all the Tributes were aware that Game Masters watched them all the time. The same Game Masters who ran the games. The same Game Masters who didn't like to hear their President referred to as a traitor. The District 7 boy continued to cackle mindlessly as the District 6 girl literally dragged him away. "Pushy isn't she?"

"She's fine," the District 7 girl said crisply. "Paul is just ridiculously ignorant and doesn't know when to shut up. Not everyone is that naïve."

Paul! Such a simple name. Why Kylar didn't remember it was beyond him. "I hope not…most of the Hunger Games is just mind games."

"What? Thinking they should rename it?" she asked.

"No, but I'm thinking you should actually pay attention to your surroundings and stop instantly believing every non-Career is your friend. You may finally be able to stop your one 'ignorant,' albeit real, ally from being manipulated."

She whipped around to see—yes!—Lesley berating Paul and then, rolling her eyes, she did a "come hither" hand gesture that Paul instantly obeyed like a good boy. Kylar watched as the District 7 girl narrowed her eyes at Paul's obedience before she seemed to remember Kylar's presence. "You're just saying that." Her tone lacked conviction.

"Hey, you're not the only one that looks out for their District partner," Kylar said, holding his hands up in mock surrender. "Do you think I _like _watching Mallory get taken advantage of? That's why I came over here. To stop District 6 from getting too big headed from their take over. I don't want Mallory to die just because some other District is using her as a pawn." Kylar's last statement had a ring of truth, which he wished surprised him, or better yet didn't even exist, but he always knew his plan to keep Mallory at arm's length wouldn't work.

She stared at Kylar before slowly nodding. He smirked as she walked away, coldly ignoring the District 6 boy as she made her way over to Paul. He almost hoped that she was a lot more cunning than she let on or else District 7 would have absolutely no chance of making it past the first day. He glanced over to see Vi flirting with the District 9 boy and the District 9 girl glaring at her partner's obvious enjoyment at being the center of a beautiful, curvy girl's attention. So far, so good.

"Do you need help?" a shy voice asked him. Kylar turned in surprise to see the 12 year old from District 8 staring at him. Huh…apparently the offer was genuine. He bit back the scathing comment he had already prepared.

"What makes you think I need your help?" Kylar asked, not able to sound mean, even if he tried.

The District 8 girl's eyes sparkled as she glanced down at his glumpy arm. He snorted as he saw a truly horrid camouflage job. What was he trying to blend it into again…?

"No, I meant for it to be like this," Kylar said, surprising a laugh out of the District 8 girl. "Clearly I was trying to be…ah…"

"A sycamore tree?" the District 8 girl asked, unsuccessfully hiding her giggles at Kylar's obvious lie.

"See? If you know what I am then clearly I'm a master at blending."

"Clearly."

Kylar couldn't help but let out a laugh when their eyes connected and she quickly joined in. Kylar ignore the curious stares from the other Tributes. This was probably the first time he actually felt comfortable at the Training Center. He abruptly stopped his laughter. He couldn't do this. He couldn't get comfortable with the other Tributes. Mallory was an unfortunate exception. He didn't want to get to know the District 8 girl.

He silently took the offered towel as he started to wipe off his arm.

The District 8 girl continued, oblivious to the change in Kylar's mindset. "So what's your District like?"

"Crowded, filled with smog," Kylar said, desperately trying to think of a way to get rid of her.

"Mine's just filled with factories," District 8 lamented. "I'd give anything to live out in the country."

"You realize that's where the poorer Districts are," Kylar reminded her.

"I know, but I'm already poor so I wouldn't mind being some place where I'm poor, but with trees," she said. "Besides, what's money got to do with happiness?"

That was incredibly naïve of her to say. And incredibly sweet. Kylar felt himself wanting to talk more to this genuinely nice girl who started a mini crisis before the Games had even begun by a simple act of friendliness towards Mallory. But he couldn't. A different time and place perhaps, but not now.

She frowned slightly at his lack of comment, but continued regardless. "It's kind of weird, but I hope that the Hunger Games takes place in a tropical forest or a valley or a mountain—"

"So anything without factories?" Kylar asked. She smiled and nodded sheepishly. Suddenly, Kylar's tone turned harsh. "That's great. I, for one, am just hoping to get out of this Game alive and I can't do that if I have a useless, little _child_ clinging to me." District 8's face fell, but Kylar ignored the sinking feeling in the middle of his stomach and continued nastily. "So do yourself a favor and drop the friendly act. Nobody here is actually dumb enough to believe it. And, if you know what's good for you, stop hanging around Mallory. She may be the only one closest to your age, but I know my District partner and you're one of the few she can actually beat. Don't think that she doesn't know that." If the pang Kylar felt at making Mallory lose her only friend—but he was doing Mallory a favor. At least that's what he kept telling himself. The pang was nothing compared to what he felt when the District 8 girl's eyes filled with tears. She let out a small sniffle before running to the other end of the Training Center—the deserted end.

"Wow, surprisingly harsh, Ky," Vi chuckled sadistically as she seemed to materialize next to him.

"Sorry, I don't speak slut," Kylar spat, not able to get the bitter taste out of his mouth. He'd done what he needed to and he felt like a complete jackass. He wasn't in the mood to talk to anyone, especially Vi. "Why don't you find a use for that annoying mouth of yours and put a cock in it?"

Vi's eyes hardened. "Is that what you want?" she whispered seductively, her cold stare melting into something much warmer as she effortlessly drew Kylar's attention away from anything not involving her perfect neck, streaming hair and, of course, the not-so-secret-weapon, her enormous tits. "A cock in my mouth? Maybe even yours." She trailed her fingers down his chest. Kylar stiffened. The logical side of his brain knew all too well what she was doing, but the majority of his brain didn't care. "We could go hot and heavy all night and day, baby. Look at me, Ky_._ These skintight leathers don't leave much to the imagination, do they? But they're _so hot_. If only we could escape to a closet and you could leave me _begging _for more. But wait." Vi's whole demeanor shifted right when Kylar felt himself leaning closer. "I don't waste my time with pathetic, little bitches that won't last thirty seconds in the Games, let alone in bed. Fuck, I'd be shocked if you'd last five seconds with me."

Kylar felt himself blush in a mixture of rage and embarrassment. He even knownwhat she was doing and he still fell for it. He forced a snort and pretended that his face wasn't currently on fire. "What? Who's going to kill me, princess? You? That would require to drop your I'm-helpless-and-I-need-big-strong-men-to-protect-me act."

She laughed humorlessly. "You say that like it's a bad thing. Isn't that what the Hunger Games are about—drama, manipulation? Besides, clearly not everybody is under my so-called I'm-helpless-and-I-need-big-strong-men-to-protect-me act, but that doesn't mean I can't get one of my 'strong men' to kill you. District 10 guy likes you, doesn't he?" She winked as a Capitol attendant started calling for the tributes to go to their registered floor. Kylar watched as she joined her District partner to the elevator. Her District partner had made absolutely no effort to befriend anyone. Actually, he hadn't seen the District 4 boy talk to anyone but Vi. Right then, he decided that the Hunger Games would be a much better place if District 4 wasn't in it.

Kylar joined Mallory in an elevator that was currently occupied by the District 6 Tributes. Lesley glared at Kylar, probably assuming that he was the reason that her newfound allies were no longer allies, and, if so, she would be correct. He glanced at Mallory, but she seemed to have gone back to the quiet girl on the train and completely ignored him.

"So how was your first day of training?" Penguid called cheerfully as they stepped out of the elevator.

Mallory turned livid as soon as the doors shut. "You ruin everything!"

Kylar took a step back. "What?"

"Don't play coy with me, Kylar! You just had to ruin my group as soon as it formed, didn't you? You aren't the only one who wanted allies during the game!"

"I didn't ruin your group," Kylar protested, remembering his tongue as soon as he got over his minor shock at Mallory's reaction.

"Don't play stupid!" Mallory yelled. Kylar was faintly aware of Tulii pushing a gawking Anita out of the common room. "I saw what you did! I thought you were on my side!"

"I am on your side—"

"Really? Is that why you ignored me during lunch? Is that why you had to turn my only friend against me?" Kylar could only stare in horror as angry tears fell from Mallory's eyes.

"I didn't want you to get hurt."

"If this is your idea of protection, stay away from me during the Game!" Mallory shrieked. "Elene was the only other tribute who got what I was going through and now she won't even look at me! I hate you!"

Silence fell once Mallory slammed her bedroom door.

"What did you do, boy?" Penguid asked harshly.

"I…nothing…I just—"

"Maybe you should try and talk to Mallory," Tulii told Penguid. "I'll talk to Kylar." Before anyone could protest, Tulii roughly yanked Kylar into the nearby room, which happened to be Anita's. The instant the door shut, Tulii ceased to exist, and Durzo Blint emerged.

"I was just eliminating a threat," Kylar explained hurriedly. "Elene—the District 8 girl—told Mallory that she could sit by her during lunch and then suddenly _all _the non-Career Districts were joining them. I was trying to break up the alliance before it formed. Then Elene started talking to me and she was nice and I had to keep her away so I told her Mallory was only being friendly to her because she was one of the few Mallory could actually kill. I didn't want Mallory to feel bad whenever Elene dies because she won't be able to take it. She'll break down and—"

"I don't care that you broke up the opposing group and hurt Mallory's feelings," Durzo interrupted, giving Kylar a long stare that made him feel as though he failed some sort of test. "It improves your chances of the Tributes killing each other in a mindless attempt at survival. What I docare about is the fact that you _care_ that you hurt Mallory's feelings and apparently the District 8 girl's."

Kylar felt his mouth go dry.

"Love is a noose," Durzo lectured. "How many times do I have to tell you that?"

"I'm not in love with Mallory or Elene!"

"No, you're not," Durzo said, "and I don't want you to. You're going to make this harder than it has to if you continue doing what you're doing."

"I have to communicate with Mallory, she's my District partner," Kylar protested, "and I haven't even talked to Elene."

"Not Elene," Durzo corrected, scowling at Kylar's blank stare. "She's a Tribute from District 8. You don't know her because she's just another face in this competition."

Kylar watched as Durzo began flipping a dagger across his fingers.

"I always knew you'd grow fond of Mallory, but, as it happens, you might've burned a bridge with that stunt you pulled today."

"Are you trying to make me feel better?"

"I'm trying to keep you alive. I've invested too many years with you for it all to be thrown away in the next two days."

Kylar knew Durzo was right, but that didn't stop the aching that he felt whenever he remember Elene's sob or Mallory's outburst.

~O~

Momma K was displeased.

The Nine always took turns deciding who the sacrifice would be each year during the reapings, it was the only way to keep diplomacy. The reapings always conveniently served as a reminder to their enemies of who really held the power. This year had to be different, didn't it? While Rickard Beanie learned to pay his debts, which was an offense Momma K didn't deem reaping-worthy, but Beanie's debts had been high this year and Corbin was uncreative. The Flokes were let off scot free because of their "valuable" information. So the one year that the boy Tribute was left up to chance, Kylar Stern was chosen. Momma K immediately smelled a rat.

Now it was time to see which rat she had to kill.

Momma K entered a bedroom of one of her more prominent whorehouses to see Corbin tied to the bed frame, looking blissfully drunk.

"Helga?" Corbin turned. "Ah, Momma K, want to join? I can't say that I've never thought about it before."

"I can, however," The Mistress of Pleasures said dryly. "Corbin, usually I prefer to weave veiled threats in pleasantries. It amuses me to see the stupid ones not understand until much later, and I always enjoy the rare treat of someone with a little wit to trade barbs with. I also despise the people who simply 'cut to the chase.' Building suspense, I find, is much more effective than brutal, and often unrealistic, threats. Unfortunately, I know how clever you are. So, also unfortunately, I know that you would be one of the few people asinine enough to actually send Durzo's apprentice to the Hunger Games."

Corbin was quickly sobering. "I would never do something so rash." The protest was mild and Momma K immediately saw Corbin subtly check his chains. He was securely tied. Helga had made sure of it.

"I'll have to be forced to disagree with you," Momma K said. "Now to do what I find absolutely nauseating, for it lacks so much tact. Corbin, I know you have an unreasonable hatred for Durzo. I understand being bitter after he destroyed your personal stash of narcotics, stole your money, kidnapped your hostage, caused family feuds—he bedded your sister, did he not?—but to take it out on Kylar…well let's say that you've woken the 'momma' in me. So I propose you either continue to deny your crime, and I cut off your balls and feed them to your dogs—wait…perhaps instead I'll keep them dangling above the dungeon you'll reside in. You know of it; wide, spacious, but it has the darn hole in the middle of it. Then, after I feel that you've learned your lesson, I'll bring you out, plump you up, and I will _truly_ torture you. Did you know that the Ymmurians know 26 ways to make a man lose his eyes? All without them actually touching his face? Fascinating people, the Ymmuri. I find myself lacking of their company of late…Now the other option is for you to admit to your crime. If you do so, Corbin, I'll give you two options. You stay in the hole for the rest of your miserable life or you let Durzo do whatever he pleases…let's say for two days."

"You're crazy woman," Corbin snarled. "You know that you can't threaten me! I'm a member of the Nine!"

Momma K raised a delicate eyebrow as she did a slow once over to his current arrangement. "Are you trying to intimidate me? I hope you're not too drunk to realize that you're chained to a bed and that you've been drugged."

"You can't kill me!"

Momma K let out a laugh. "When did I ever mention killing you?"

"I…I'm a member of the Nine!"

"You've mentioned that. Now _I _will remind _you _that I was the Mistress of Pleasures back when you were still a piece of gutter-shit who scraped out a living by picking pockets and digging in the sewers! Do you honestly think that there's no rivalry within the Sa'kage? Or that one member of the Nine has never been responsible for the death of another?"

"Whore! You can't think you'll get away with this!"

"This is why I long for people of actual wit to argue with," Momma K sighed. "You've barely spoken yet you've already fallen back to the 'whore' comments. And what gave you the impression that the other Nine would raise fuss at another opening? You realize that another position to be filled only causes them to put their own pawn in."

"This is ridiculous," Corbin sputtered, genuine terror in his eyes. "I demand a trial."

"Alright," Momma K agreed. "Do you plead guilty for Kylar Stern's participation in the Hunger Games?"

"No!"

"How unfortunate," Momma K said. "The evidence I've gathered begs to differ, so therefore the jury finds you guilty and the judge sentences you to castration, a life in the hole, and your only brief respite from that hellhole will be in the form of Ymurri visitors. Gentlemen, if you would..."

Corbin began thrashing against his bounds as two burly guards strode in. "You can't do this to me!"

"You seem to have been ignoring everything I've been saying," Momma K said. "Or you have a limited vocabulary, because I _can _do it, and I _am _doing it. Remember, you do have another option."

Corbin spat at her feet. In return, Momma K made a small gesture with her left hand, and one of the guards drove a fist into Corbin's gut, while the other guard simultaneously swung his fist upward to catch Corbin's chin. Three teeth went flying.

"If you would be so kind as to offer him as a gift to the Ymmuri gentleman next door," Momma K finished, ignoring the garbled insults spewing from Corbin's bloody mouth. "It's time to make this bastard pay."


	6. Chapter 6

**So…hey. This is awkward. Haven't updated in forever and a half. So I doubt any previous readers I had still remember this story. But hey! New chapter so…yay?**

The next day of training went as expected, but ended with some District tributes quivering while they waited for their name to be called for the private session with the Gamemakers. Kylar's anxiety was on a completely different basis. While most tributes took this as an opportunity to wow the Gamemakers—of course, there's always the few who would deliberately lowball their score, something he wouldn't put past Vi and possibly Pamiana—Kylar was worried how to achieve a score that wasn't high enough to garner attention, but wasn't low enough to warrant skepticism with his skills with weapons. Careers assumed he was at least competent with weaponry and would ditch him instantly if he scored a seven or lower.

Morals was the first to go and Kylar ignored Mallory's obvious cold shoulder in favor of joking with Amethyst and Roth. Pamiana tried to join in, but the ditzy façade she played became inconsistent when it drew closer to her turn. He grew quiet once Vi sashayed through the doors and watched as the other Districts continued to sit in silence. It wasn't even the solemn silence filled with nervous energy that Kylar expected. The silence was filled with tension and cold stares as Districts glared at one another and, occasionally, even their District partner. Kylar had no idea his and Vi's plan would be so successful. He almost wanted to ask Vi what she did, but they weren't in that type of a relationship. Theyweren't _in_ a relationship.

"Kylar Stern," the monotonous voice of a Capitol attendant called. He walked through the awaiting doors with a confident stride. The disadvantage of his placing was that the Gamemakers just finished watching the prowess of the Careers and unconsciously had the bar raised that much higher. The dilemma of the right mixture of impressive, but not remarkable was made that much harder.

He started with the sword, which he previously decided would be his best weapon. The Gamemakers gave a few approving nods as Kylar slashed through three dummies while "dodging" an attack from an imaginary foe. He easily turned his roll into a handspring and whipped the sword into an automatic defensive position. Kylar eyed the Gamemakers in his peripheral vision. Shit. At least half of them were leaning forward in anticipation. Time to move onto spears.

He waltzed to the spear station and confidently grabbed the first one. He studied the target that was 30 feet away. _Hmm…third ring should throw them off. _Kylar inwardly smirked as his spearhead buried itself into the outer ring of the target. The Gamemakers seemed to collectively sigh and deflate. His second spear went to the second ring, but Kylar, still wary of a low score, made his third spear hit the bulls-eye.

"Thank you, Kylar Stern," a Gamemaker said, officially ending Kylar's session. He bowed respectfully and swiftly made his way to the exit. That could've gone worse.

~O~

"This is so exciting!" Anita said, her eyes now heavily dilated in the latest Capitol fashion. The "latest" fashion seemed to change at least three times a week. She was the same perky, happily oblivious District escort, she just squinted a lot more. Some of the things the Capitol people do…

"You say that every year about everything," Penguid grumbled as he eyed a pot roast the Avoxes just brought it.

"Well, yes," Anita drawled, aiming a glare at a lamp close to Penguid's head. "That's because _I, _for one, doesn't like to be a party pooper."

"Anita has spent too much time with us," Tulii tsked. "She just said 'pooper.'"

Anita sputtered indignantly while Penguid let out a loud guffaw.

"What a bad influence we are," Penguid agreed. He glanced at Mallory nervously spinning her fork in her potatoes. "So how do you two think you did?"

Mallory shrugged. "I was nervous. I dropped a knife…or two."

Penguid nodded and handed Mallory a warm mug of hot cocoa. "The Gamemasters are used to seeing much worse. District 12 tributes always have little to no training, God bless their souls."

"You, Kylar?" Anita asked.

"We'll see soon enough, won't we?" Kylar said, nodding to the Panem symbol that appeared on the TV screen. Anita squeaked in delight as she swiveled her chair to face the screen.

Morals received a 10, to Kylar's surprise. He hadn't seen him do more than glance at a weapon during training. Amethyst got a 7, which made Kylar feel like it would be more acceptable to receive a lower score. The rest of the Careers had solid 8s, with the exception of the District 3 tributes who collectively scored a 6 and Vi who received a 9, much to Kylar's chagrin. Kylar's face materialized on screen and an 8 flashed below.

Anita squealed. "Kylar! That's great!"

"Good job, kid," Penguid said. Durzo grunted in approval, or either Tulii cleared his throat. It was hard to tell. He allowed himself a satisfied smirk.

Mallory leaned forward in anticipation when she appeared on the flat screen.

3.

Mallory sunk into her chair.

"The other players will assume you lowered your score on purpose," Anita immediately started rambling.

"Yes, you won't be a target when the games begin," Penguid said. "Just remember to run _away_ from Cornucopia."

"I just…ok," Mallory said, not looking up from her plate.

The Panem national anthem signaled the end of the scores and Caesar Flickerman began his lighthearted banter with one of the Gamemakers. Mallory officially scored the lowest, even the 12 year old and blind guy beat her. Kylar tried to tell himself this was a good thing, she would be perceived as weak and not a threat, but she would also be considered as easy target. A person easily manipulated, mutilated, tortured, and an easy shot of glory for a non-Career who didn't want their family to be shamed by the Tribute's lack of aggression. He turned away from Mallory's sad eyes and Penguid's encouraging words, and Kylar began to pick at his food half-heartedly.

~O~

Vi positively preened when she saw her score. A 9 was a very respectable score. Definitely threw the damsel in distress theory in Kylar's face. Poor Kylar, perhaps she should offer to kill him quickly. Not that she believed that numbers were everything. Obviously if they were, she would've scored higher. To see Kylar score so deliciously average, at least among the Careers, gave her a flicker of hope that her caution toward him was unwarranted. He was clever, she'd give him that. She didn't trust the watchful, all-knowing gleam in his eye. However, as the highest girl and the third ranked all around, since she was only beaten by the District 1 and 10 boy tributes who each received a 10, she made herself a target to sponsors and tributes alike.

"Heh! I knew the feisty one would pay off," Hu Gibbit laughed, slapping a hand on his fellow mentor's back. Finnick smiled distantly. He was apparently still preoccupied by the news of his helpless beloved in District 4. She was sick yet again. Vi was beginning to wonder if Finnick knew he could get any person he set his mind to.

Vi's eyes narrowed at her District partner's pathetic attempt at a smile.

"This can only mean good things," Isaac said, grimacing painfully at Hu.

"It does," Hu agreed. "Your parents will be pleased."

Finnick went alert, apparently realizing there was a world outside of his inner broodings. "Both of them will. Wow, a 9. Congratulations, Vi."

~O~

Next came the part Kylar was surprisingly dreading: the interview. He lied in much more pressuring situations, but something about Caesar Flickerman probing into his past, and possibly trying to get intimate details from him, didn't sit well with Kylar. Especially when said past was fabricated.

"Remember your persona?" Durzo asked during their private session. "Cocky, wanting to be here, semi-sadistic?"

Kylar nodded. "How detailed will they get in their questions?"

"They aren't going to ask you to recite your family history. Redirect questions you don't want to answer. You've done it before."

"Yeah, but what about Logan?"

"What about him?" Durzo asked gruffly.

"Well, Caesar's obviously going to ask about him," Kylar said. "He did volunteer for me."

"Either paint a charming picture about how Logan loves you and didn't want you to die and how you were just as dedicated toward keeping Logan alive," Durzo said sardonically, "or act how the Capitol thinks Kylar acts and roll your eyes about someone 'trying to steal your thunder.' What do you think Logan and the Drakes want? You telling the truth and the Careers turning on you and you revealing your training? Or a little white lie that doesn't surprise anybody, unless they know you."

Kylar squirmed under Durzo's gaze and nodded his assent.

That was five hours ago.

Costume change—Kylar didn't think it was possible to look worse than he did in the opening ceremony—and last minute "pep" talk from Anita later, and he watched as Vi laughed at something Caesar said. She brushed his arm as she leaned forward, her low cut dress helping her get _exactly_ what she was going for. He watched Amethyst seethe from her chair. Morals nodded along occasionally to his District partner's rants, but his eyes were glued to the television. Morals had been nearly mute when it came to his interview—his answers coming out as mostly monosyllables. Amethyst had a great aren't-I-so-sexy approach that worked beautifully, until Vi. Roth was cocky and stupid and Pamianna was giggly and too obviously nervous, not in the endearing 'oh those quant other Districts' way the Capitolists were so fond of.

The audience roared as Vi gave them a parting wink as she returned backstage. Her District partner walked past her, barely sparing her a glance, and Vi sat next to Kylar.

"See anything you like?" she breathed in his ear. Mallory glanced up in alarm, momentarily forgetting her ignore Kylar ploy.

Kylar nodded. "I did appreciate the way you almost tripped at the end there."

Vi glared.

"Nice District partner," Kylar said. "I didn't think it was possible, but he makes Morals look like a gabby, pubescent girl."

Vi snorted. "Morals?"

Kylar scowled. He really needed to learn names.

"Suits him," Vi said, glancing at the District 1 boy, "which suits me. Honest people are so easy to take advantage of."

"What an appalling thing to say," Pamiana said, before widening her eyes and biting her lip.

Kylar raised his eyebrows. He and Vi weren't talking that loudly. They both had this small thing called common sense. Pamiana was obviously eavesdropping. "Isn't it?"

Pamiana seemed to stutter and remember her façade under Vi's cold stare. Vi warmed her gaze in a few seconds and gave Pamiana what appeared to be a genuine smile. Oh how Kylar wanted to kill her now and get it over with.

"I was just joking with Kylar," Vi said. Pamiana hesitantly returned Vi's smile before shifting to the other side of her chair. Vi rolled her eyes. "Some people give deception such a bad name."

Kylar watched Pamiana tense at Vi's words. "You would know."

"Give a final round of applause to Isaac Crosse!" Caesar Flickerman boomed, his blood red hair shimmering. The audience was happy to oblige.

"Mallory Beanie," a Capitol attendant said, ushering her to the edge of the stage.

"Now for the first tribute from 5, give it up for—"

"Good job, Isaac," Vi said, as her District partner stiffly sat next to her. He grunted.

"Charming," Kylar said, "I beat sponsors will fight over you."

Isaac stared dully ahead but his fists clenched in his lap.

"Luckily, people donate to Districts, not tributes," Vi said. Kylar frowned at her tone. "I definitely got attention."

"That's one way to put it," Kylar muttered, Mallory's nervous giggle drawing his attention to the stage.

"So what is there to do in District 5?" Caesar asked with a teasing grin.

"Um I like to hang out with my friends in the town square," Mallory stammered.

"Your friends were probably ecstatic when your name got drawn," Caesar prodded.

"Uh…yeah they were really loud," Mallory said. "They promised to root for me."

"Yes, District 5 hasn't won the Games in quite some time," Caesar said. "Do you think you can help change that?"

Roth snorted. "No, have you _seen _her? A passing breeze could kill her."

Kylar ignored the stares from the other Districts waiting for his reaction, along with the worried one from the twelve-year-old. Distancing himself from Mallory was for the best. He just wished that it didn't make him slightly ill.

"—and my dad was really adamant about me going," Mallory continued. "I want to make my District proud."

"Strong words, Mallory," Caesar commended, "and I wish you luck in the Hunger Games. Everyone, give a round of applause to Mallory Beanie!"

"Good luck, Ky," Vi said. "Don't fuck things up or else District 5 will be sponsor-less."

"Fuck you," Kylar said.

"If you could only be so lucky."

"Everyone, District 5's Kylar Stern!"

~O~

Durzo felt a small wave of relief. Kylar somehow managed to pull off cocky and charming with an ease that made Caesar and the audience laugh. Each of Kylar's responses attracted sponsors, Durzo noted pleasantly.

Penguid leaned towards him. "Effective, but not your usual method when you prepare tributes."

Durzo forced a casual shrug. "He needed to work at his strengths. Our District needs all the help it can get."

"So, your reaping definitely spiced up the proceedings," Caesar said, flashing a grin at Kylar. Durzo pursed his lips as he watched his apprentice freeze minutely before forcing a shrug. He looked agitated. Durzo knew Kylar was getting too involved with his assignment in District 5 and he now had an annoying streak of loyalty—no matter how small—to the Gyre boy. Love was a noose. How many times did he have to tell him?

"Yeah, what can you do? Some people assume that a lanky guy like me would jump at the opportunity to leave." Kylar bared his teeth. "Those people don't know me."

Caesar laughed. "Not too lanky. You did get an 8."

"All I can really do is hope…" Kylar blinked innocently into the audience. "And kill."

"Thank you, Kylar," Caesar stood, shaking his hand, "and good luck in the Hunger Games!"

"Creepy little bastard," Penguid said. "He unnerves me."

Durzo raised a questioning eyebrow. Penguid rarely was so against a District 5 tribute. However, Penguid, like Kylar ironically, was protective over Mallory. Kylar hurt Mallory, and harmed her chances of survival by breaking the tender beginnings of another alliance—mainly with that Elene girl. Durzo had no doubt that Penguid had to comfort a sobbing Mallory during their private session.

"He's too good at slipping on personas," Penguid continued. "He acts differently in his settings."

"In the games…"

"I know it's a useful skill," Penguid said, his annoyance at Kylar's manipulation skills bleeding into his voice. "I just don't want it to become evident to the other tributes and mentors. Or else he'll be the turncoat everyone will target."

"You're paranoid."

"You have to be during the Games."

"Relax, Penguid. We mustn't frighten the children the day before the Game."

"You unnerve me too."

"Oh?" Durzo would be worried, but a teasing glint finally returned in Penguid's eyes.

"No one should be this relaxed before the start of the Hunger Games."

"You think you'd be used to this by now," Durzo mused. "You're lucky we weren't in the same Game."

Penguid guffawed and drowned his beer. "Come now. I'm going to go over strategies with Mallory. Your devil spawn is apparently not a reliable ally."

"I'll talk to him," Durzo said, trying to alleviate Penguid's dry, disproving stare. Penguid grumbled into his chicken leg, but was momentarily appeased.

~O~

Kyler gazed off the roof of the Training Center, his feet dangling carelessly over the edge. His interview was fine. Some sponsors were probably interested, but Kylar couldn't stop beating himself up about Logan. He bit his lip. He had no idea if Logan would know it was a ruse or not. Kylar knew Logan's weak points and self-doubt was a surprisingly high one. Followed by the fear of being manipulated. His best friend would have very mixed feelings at his interview. His stomach twisted itself into knots.

Kylar stiffened as he felt a presence behind him. He turned his head to see Durzo stride towards him. He hid a grimace. He also broke character when Caesar asked about the reapings. Durzo obviously saw. He had no idea how quickly he covered his expression.

"The Gyre boy could kill you," Durzo stated bluntly.

The wetboy-in-training gulped minutely, but held eye contact.

"Your cover was blown because of him."

"I—"

Durzo's eyes narrowed. "Don't think the Game tomorrow will stop my strikes. You're too emotionally attached. You may have hidden your true expression after a moment, but you need to be more cautious. Don't kill many tributes. Don't hinder or aid Mallory. You can't afford any emotional attachment in this Game. You have too much already."

Kylar swallowed, his heart beating faster. He didn't form these attachments on purpose. What about Durzo and his relationship with the Drakes or Momma K? He let his bitter thoughts wither. Durzo would never understand Kylar's struggles to stay detached.

"Get sleep," Durzo instructed. "You have a big day tomorrow."


	7. Chapter 7

**And another chapter! I'd like to thank my (still splendid) beta reader Paragon of Awesomeness who is great and lovely with their edits and making my story more presentable. I would also like to give a shout-out to all my readers who remembered my story from when I first posted it and still read it and enjoy it :D y'all are awesome and make my day!**

Kylar picked at his sleeve. The material was light, but durable, which told him nothing about the Arena. Theoretically, he could ask Yethi if he had any insight based off the clothing, but the wetboy-in-training knew his stylist would just take the opportunity to grope him and say something vaguely theatrical and entirely unhelpful. He glanced at said stylist, who was currently putting the finishing touches on his hair. Yethi had given Kylar a ten minute lecture about the importance of appearance and hygiene in the Arena, which boiled down to having no stray hairs during his grand entrance. Kylar was so relieved that he could now look presentable before the inevitable bloodbath.

He snorted softly when Yethi stepped back to admire his work.

"You're like a cobra," Yethi mused. "Poised, pristine, and ready to strike."

Kylar didn't want to deal with Yethi, even if the bizarre man was keeping his wandering hands away from him for the time being. He shrugged and muttered, "I'm just going to stand on the platform until it's time."

Yethi pouted, but Kylar ignored him and studiously stared at the wall. Besides Durzo's lecture about cutting all emotional ties last night, he hadn't offered him advice—even as Tulii—for the Arena. Kylar hadn't been expecting a mob of supporters, but he felt like his morning had been a gigantic cold shoulder. Mallory's rage was unlikely to wither in the near future—and Kylar doubted she would live long enough for said withering to occur—while Penguid's fleeting presence consisted of gathering Mallory for last minute advice and ridding his District partner of her nerves. He had hardly spared Kylar more than a nod. Durzo's passing gaze offered Kylar no assistance. Apparently, his master was treating the Game as a test. He had trained Kylar to fight any situation a wetboy might encounter on a job, but would that training allow him to adapt and manipulate a victory under the scrutinizing gaze of all the people in Panem without exposing himself? Only time would tell. Of course, if Kylar failed this test, there would be no reprimand or rescue from Durzo. Kylar clenched his fists. He didn't need an aloof master and an uncaring mentor. He wanted something to distract him, to offer him guidance. He was anxious. He knew that he would have extremely vigilant in the Arena, as he couldn't exactly trust his 'allies' to watch his back and the anticipation was killing him. Cameras would constantly be on him at every conceivable angle, and he couldn't afford to look like anything more than a Tribute from District 5 with slightly above average skills and a lot of luck.

The glass outside the platform began to lower. He would be entering the Hunger Games in ten seconds. He ran a hand through his hair, drawing Yethi's narrowed glare, to which Kylar responded with a smirk, but the effect was ruined by blinding light from the now opened ceiling. His platform lurched upwards.

Kylar gulped and attempted to keep his face impassive as he rose to the place that would decide his fate.

~O~

Mallory Beanie squealed as her platform suddenly surged. Penguid let her cry on him last night. She refused to let the Hunger Games steal another tear from her. He had checked her again this morning, answering her questions and soothing her woes—again.

She blinked owlishly as she took in her surroundings. The Arena looked like a small town in ruins surrounded on all sides by jungle. Which was…different. But better than the frozen tundra she dreamed of last night, at least.

Mallory went over the strategy Penguid suggested: Gather supplies and try to find a weapon. They both agreed that her best bet was with stealth and intelligence. As such, Cornucopia was a no-go. She would be slaughtered within a matter of seconds if she even attempted to jump into that fray. So she would have to find another source of supplies. Did the ruined city mean 'old' stores with supplies? Or should she risk the jungle?

She couldn't rely on any outside help. No other Tribute would take her, the one with the lowest score overall, as an ally. She wasn't sure if she could trust Elene not to kill her and Kylar…

She shook her head and quickly gazed at the other tributes. Vi, who was to her immediate left, sneered and waved mockingly, causing Mallory's stomach dropped. Elene was nowhere near her and Kylar was directly across from her. No one in the circle offered salvation to Mallory.

She leaned subtly towards the jungle. She was practical with her chances of survival. She would not make it in the Games. Mallory never divulged her plan to Penguid, as he would try to talk her out of it, despite her morbid logic. She knew the Gamemasters had all sorts of booby traps in the Arean, so no one would blame her if she happened to stumble on one of them. With the booby trap, Mallory had a chance at a relatively swift and painless death, which was far more than what she could expect if she came across one of the other Tributes, let alone the Careers. She could die without shaming her District, her father.

Mallory wasn't going to delude herself; she knew that someone like her didn't stand a chance in this death game. But if she was going to die, she at least wanted to choose the manner in which she did so.

A flash caught her eye. A dagger. It was the most basic weapon, but one she knew how to wield. The problem was that the weapon was on the very outskirts of Cornucopia. She bit her lip. Her strategy began and ended with her avoiding the Cornucopia. With the lowest score among Tributes, her attempting to get anything from Cornucopia would be nothing less than suicidal. And deliberate. She could not let her death look like anything but a tragic accident. But the dagger was maybe twenty feet from her…

The blast of the cannon startled her and, making a split-second decision, she sprinted towards the dagger. She was already far behind Vi, who loped gracefully towards the very core of the Cornucopia. The stronger, more gorgeous redhead completely ignored Mallory's dagger. She breathed with a sigh of relief.

A quick glance over her shoulder revealed the Tribute on her other side as the male Tribute from District 8. After snatching a backpack, he reversed and entered a nearby alleyway. _Focus._ She narrowed in on the dagger and reached.

A dark shadow passed over her. Mallory squeaked and yanked the dagger towards her. She would slice at her attacker and bolt. She didn't want to throw and lose her only weapon. Not after her suicidal risk. Besides, she didn't trust her aim this early in the Game. The adrenaline was already making her hand quiver.

A solid whack easily stopped her progress and threw her to the ground, with the unforgiving hardness of stone to break her fall. The dagger was wrenched away from her. She blinked groggily at the cold gaze of Vi's District partner.

He sneered down at her. "Start running, little girl. I don't like killing stationary targets."

Mallory's heart thudded as she scrambled away from him.

"There we go…" He brandished the dagger in one hand, the artificial sunlight flickering off the blade.

Mallory knew turning her back was asking for death. She knew it. Her logical side whispered for her to grab a stone and fight. But her survival instinct screamed and sent her vaulting into the air. She squeezed her eyes shut when she heard a dark chuckle behind her. She sprinted towards the alley the District 8 boy had disappeared through, valiantly fighting the mental image of the District 4 tribute preparing to throw the dagger.

Her dagger.

The dagger that lead her towards the Cornucopia.

The dagger that lured her straight to her death.

Mallory angrily wiped the tears streaming down her face. Gods why did she have to die like this?

A bloody gurgle made her glance behind her fleetingly. Her eyes widened when she saw an ax embedded in the District 4 boy's head. She let out a shaky breath but didn't allow herself to stop running. Abandoning the city, she headed towards the jungle. She needed supplies. She needed to be away from the Cornucopia and the Careers. She needed to know whose fateful ax allowed her to survive a little while longer.

~O~

Kylar yanked his ax out of Isaac's head, schooling his face into a blank expression as he ran back towards the Cornucopia. He was relieved to see his Career 'allies' had beaten off the rest of the Tributes. Kylar couldn't afford to kill another Tribute. Not today. Not with all of Panem watching.

At the start of the Game, he had been relieved to see Roth and Amethyst on either side of him. They traded mock bows and not-so-secret grins as they all turned to face the Cornucopia. He allowed them to get ahead of him as he scooped up nearby throwing axes. He'd grimaced because though throwing axes were similar to throwing knives, the technique was altered enough that he'd have to pretend to be sloppy. Which was tedious.

His surveying glance of the town square instantly narrowed when he saw Isaac stalking menacingly towards a terrified Mallory. Not even pausing to think, Kylar tore across the Arena, his only focus to bodily separate Isaac from Mallory. He knew Vi's District partner was demented. Why go after Mallory? She wasn't a threat to anybody, save the blind Tribute from District 12. Isaac raised his hand to throw his dagger at Mallory and Kylar felt a jolt in his heart. He threw his ax. A bloody gurgle escaped Isaac's throat as the ax buried itself neatly in his head. A wave of mixed feelings hit Kylar as he saw Isaac fall, and he bit back swears as he walked to the corpse.

He shouldn't have been able to do that, especially if he wanted everyone in Panem to remain unaware of his true training. His first kill in the Hunger Games shouldn't have been so precise. Kylar shouldn't have allowed the Gamemasters and the people of Panem to see the simplicity and professionalism he had displayed at taking Isaac's life. Durzo was going to kill him if he ever made it out of here. In spite of these feelings, Kylar was forced to bite back a relieved sigh as he watched Mallory successfully get away from Cornucopia and escape into the relative safety of the jungle.

Durzo would kill him for that too.

Kylar acted purely out of instinct when he saw his District partner threatened. His instinct was going to kill him.

His instinct did save Mallory, a tiny voice insisted. Kylar squashed those feelings and put them in a box. He would examine them when he had time, probably after the Games. He needed to avoid contact with Mallory the rest of the Game, he decided as he reached Cornucopia. Despite the fact her survival faintly eased his worries.

"Hey, I've got an extra sword here, take it," Roth called, tossing the sword at Kylar.

He caught it midair by the hilt and offered a sarcastic salute. Panem had already seen what he could do with an ax, and the Gamemasters had all witnessed his prowess with swords, knives, and spears. He mentally crossed precise spear throwing off his Hunger Game repertoire, and decided that he would have to avoid touching any weapon expertly besides swords and axes if he could help it. Knives would no longer be an option for him either; he couldn't afford to raise further suspicion, especially with the Gamemasters. It would lead to too many questions about him when all this was over. Of course, that was assuming he survived the Games in the first place. And Durzo.

Suffice to say, Kylar wasn't off to a great start. The Games hadn't even been going on for half an hour and he already fucked up with his too precise kill. Not that he could bring himself to care too much because his actions lead to Mallory's escape. Which he felt should worry him a bit, especially since he knew for a fact that the girl was going to die in this arena and he just delayed the inevitable. Night Angels, why did Mallory have to be the other District 5 Tribute?

"Not everyone was a pussy and circled the edges of Cornucopia and fun," Amethyst mocked. "_We_ salvaged decent weapons."

Kylar knew that in the Hunger Games, politics were just as essential, if not more, as fighting. So nipping that comment in the bud was vital. "I wasn't aware you relied on my skill so heavily, Amethyst. I thought covering our flanks might be important. It's pretty much Survival 101 to make sure that you don't get overtaken from behind."

"'Flanks,' right," Roth leered. "Did you actually pull your weight and kill people?"

"What does it look like?" Kylar goaded as he twirled his bloody ax around. Roth cracked a demented grin.

"Let's divide the supplies," Morals interrupted, his eyes flickering towards the trio with what could only be described as resigned disdain. Kylar wondered how many people—tributes and viewers—expected him, Roth, and Amethyst to remain allies after the Careers inevitably dissipated.

"Who died and made you president?" Roth challenged.

"Dividing supplies is the smart thing to do, moron," Vi snapped. "We're working together, after all."

Kylar rolled her eyes when she glanced at him in what he supposed was Vi's attempt at appearing threatening. He forced a yawn.

"We'll need to figure out how we'll split and guard our food supply," Morals continued as though there had been no interruption.

Kylar glanced around at his Career allies. Roth, Amethyst, Morals, Vi were no surprise, though he frowned momentarily at the sight of a girl he faintly recognized hovering by Morals before belatedly realizing she was Roth's District partner. The fact he didn't know her name made him wonder about the probable rift between her and Roth. Seeing Pamianna amid the Careers made him raise an eyebrow. He mentally applauded the District 3 Tribute for managing to convince the rest of the Careers to accept her. He assumed her ditzy façade—her bad ditzy façade—would have gotten her killed by the other Careers, but apparently they were either oblivious or just didn't care. Pamianna's perceptive gazes and analytical way of thinking had apparently allowed her to adapt her behavior accordingly depending on the Career's reactions, which gave away her intelligence as both a competitor and a threat. The male District 10 Tribute wasn't anywhere in the Career group however, which Kylar expected. With any luck, the giant brute would die before their little alliance fell apart.

"Where's Isaac?" Vi said. Her deadpan voice instantly drew everyone's attention.

A hush fell over the Cornucopia.

Kylar felt the cameras zoom in on his face.

"Where is Isaac?" Vi demanded, glaring at each Career.

Forcing down the instinctive desire to panic, he kept his face void of any emotion, which was more telling than any expression. At least with Vi.

Vi stalked towards him. "What did you do to Isaac?"

"Didn't realize he meant so much to you," Kylar muttered.

She swung her knife towards his face, but he simply sneered as he blocked her swipe with his ax. Furiously, she rushed towards him. Her knife feint distracted him from anticipating her slide that swept his legs out from under him while her other arm grappled with his sword arm. He hooked a leg around her to bring the redhead down, but she neatly arched her body towards his and landed on him, holding him squarely to the ground with his arms pinned. As she glowered down at him, Kylar felt her knife blade press lightly on the veins in his wrist.

"Where is Isaac?"

"Dead."

Vi froze for half a second, but that was the only opening Kylar needed. He kicked her up and away from him, taking a ready stance with both weapons the instant he regained his footing.

"You _killed _my District partner?"

"He tried to kill my District partner," Kylar said, forcing a nonchalant tone.

"You don't even _like_ her," the redhead snarled.

"Well, I could let her go and die when I could so obviously save her," Kylar spat. "How would my District react if I ignored her screams for mercy?"

Vi let out a frustrated scream, but, despite Kylar blinking and his hands tightening around his weapons, she made no move to attack him.

"Fuck you guys, I'm going to scout the area," Vi hissed. "But let me make one thing clear: this isn't over, Ky. The second I decide you're of no further use, I'll kill you."

"You think I'm useful?" Kylar asked condescendingly. He couldn't let the sponsors or other Tributes know how much her threat bothered him. Vi was dangerous. She was already a strong contender in the Games, her obvious combat prowess and wiliness to use her sexual appeal to manipulate both her fellow Tributes and the audience lead everybody to that simple fact. But Kylar's instincts were telling him that there was another lethal element about her, something that Vi was hiding until the ideal moment. And that feeling terrified him.

"Besides being a buffer? No," Vi snipped. She sheathed her knife and threw a crossbow on her back. With the wind tugging her hair, she looked quite formidable as she stalked away.

Kylar forced himself to calm down. He had always known that Vi was going to be one of his top competitors; her open death threat changed nothing in his strategy.

"I thought you were gonna die," Roth chuckled.

"Kind of the point of the Games, isn't it?"

Morals began talking to Pamianna and Roth's District partner about how to ration food and set up a secure perimeter in order to protect their food supply, but not before giving the wetboy one last look. In spite of himself, Kylar had to glance away from Morals' calculating eyes. He felt vulnerable. He needed to think. He needed to be alone.

"I'm going to make sure we didn't miss any supplies on the outskirts of the Cornucopia," Kylar said shortly, turning his back on the others and ignoring Roth's response. His plan to avoid the limelight was going horribly astray.

Yep, Durzo was definitely going to kill him if he ever got out of here.


End file.
